Avatar
by 898700
Summary: Ghosts, specters, demons and an imminent disaster … the usual. In addition, Leo's behavior is kind of creepy. Translated from the original in Spanish, written by Medeah. Chapter 2 of 15.
1. Chapter 1

_**Avatar** _by **Medeah**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Turtles, and have no intention to make money from this.

**Author Note:** This fic is based on the 2003 TV series.

* * *

**I- The inscription.**

He wasn't sure why he was doing it, but still there he was …

He vaguely remembered what he saw the last time, something confusing …

Something strange.

He hasn't paid attention to it the last time. Why was he doing it now?

He closed the eyes, with each single breath traveling deeper into his mind.

He wasn't almost here, but everything around him was more present than ever. He could hear the sound of that little leaking at the end of the corridor, the little scratches from the rats on the sewerages, even the steps of the passers-by that walked over them, several meters above, in the surface. He knew exactly where each one of his brothers were, almost could see them.

_Rin … Pio … To … Sha … Kai … Jin … Retsu … Zai … Zen …_

He opened the eyes.

He wasn't even more on the practice room. In fact, he wasn't anywhere near the lair …

The door was in front of him, he only had to open it.

He moved thru the room, slightly conscious of his surroundings. Until he reached that corner.

He couldn't stop the shivering he experienced every time he went beside that dark corner. He couldn't remember creating it, at least not consciously … maybe it had always been there.

He hated it.

There was not much worry from his part while he didn't have to get close to it. He could imagine what was there, and didn't like it.

He moved to the door on the other side of the room, mechanically, not really thinking on what he was doing.

He opened it. Inside was the old man on lotus position, in the middle of a spacious lounge bathed by a soft light that came from the skylight on the roof. The atmosphere smelled of incense.

The old man opened the eyes noticing his presence. He smiled.

_The old man._

The old man was a mirror; that was all what he already knew. But he still couldn't understand why it had to be an old man and not something else …

"You know you should not be here, don't you?" the old man's serene voice welcomed him. Leonardo took a seat in front of him.

"I know." He knew it, but still there he was. Usually, he only recurred to this deep meditation with Splinter's help, never alone.

"It is a sin to do the _Kuji Kiri_ on your own," the old man continued. "I hope you are prepared to be punished … when you return …"

Leo looked at him, pensively.

Yes, it was true.

"What was your question, then?

_Question?_ Yes … he should have a reason to be here, shouldn't he?

"Why … why am I here?" The old man laughed at that.

"Ask the right question, child."

_The right question?_ He barely knew what he was doing there. Just a moment ago he was on the practice room …

"Who else is here?" he asked without thinking, without really understanding it. But that was the question, he was sure.

The old man expression changed. Now he seemed disturbed.

"This will have consequences, child. You shouldn't be here."

"What … what's going on?" the old man's eyes looked at him with fear.

"You should get out of here … maybe there's one chance …"

"What? But what …"

"You should leave. That question was the right one; there's someone else here … don't you notice?"

Yes, he noticed.

But it was late now.

The old man vanished in front of his eyes.

Leonardo straightened up with a jump … all the room was in darkness. _Get up_.

"Something wrong is going on here …" he told to himself.

Suddenly everything reverberated with a thud, that of something huge falling to the floor, from a distant place. Leonardo opened the eyes abruptly, swallowing down air, startled.

_This is what happens when you come back from such a deep meditation without guidance._ Now he realized the silliness of what he did and it wasn't even clear if it was worth the risk. He didn't even understood why he had done it, in first place.

He looked around; he was at Splinter's library. Fortunately, Master Splinter wasn't there yet, and …

Wait a second.

On Splinter's library? That was not the place where he was before, he was sure he was on the room they used to train. Then, why …?

_Sigh._

He looked around the room. There was a big bookcase in front of him, and on the floor was the cause of his rude awakening: one of the books had slipped from the shelves and was open faced down.

He rubbed his eyes and stood up. He went to the book and picked it up from the floor, scanning the shelves to find the one where the book belonged. Only on the last of them was a possible place, but …

If the book had been there, between those two huge volumes, in a space where all the books were tightly packed, how could it fall down? A truck or another big size vehicle running on the surface? It seemed improbable, but if that was not the reason, what else could be?

Before he put it back on its place his eyes got locked on one of the pages.

It was a strange book, bind in black … he couldn't remember seeing it before; there was not a title, anything. In fact, all the pages were blank with the exception of the one he was looking at. What were the stakes for the book to fall and open right on the only page with something written?

He sat on the floor with the open book in front of him. He couldn't make sense out of the writing: in was on an unknown idiom, one he had never seen before … on cursive script.

And it was just a line. Why would someone bother to bind a book with only a line of gibberish? And why did Master Splinter kept it here?

Truly, it was strange; where was the sense in writing something like _Aila himel adonaij amara zebaoth cadas yeseraije haralius_?

He tried to utter the first word. His voice sounded like a growl, but it didn't seemed that difficult … without really noticing he pronounced it complete, out loud. More than once.

There was a vague memory in his mind of something he read somewhere, about the dangers of reading inscriptions in unknown languages, especially if they are in cursive script and you are not really sure of what it means …

He wanted to think about it a little more, but suddenly he was really sleepy. Amazingly sleepy. He just wanted to sleep; his eyelids were closing by themselves …

* * *

"Please!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, and that's my last word."

"Wh-"

"I'm not training with you! Go look for someone else."

"But I … need someone that takes practice seriously." Raphael smiled evilly.

"You have not idea of what are you asking for … besides, what's with you wanting to learn martial arts? It is not something you could choose as a summer project."

April got serious.

"This is not a game to me."

"Bah! I don't give you more than a week …"

"Well, I have been on this more than three weeks, for your information!"

"Oh yes, a whole new record …" April sighed.

"The Master says that Ninjitsu can help me to regain some balance on my life, some control … I mean, my life is a complete wreck right now! And not just because I meet you …"

"Oh, thank you very much …"

"You know what I mean …"

"No, I don't."

"… I need to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to have a purpose, guidance, principles to follow; you know, honor and all …"

"Then you should better watch the evangelic channel …"

"You are unbearable!" Raphael smiled.

"Thanks. Even then, all that pretty stuff you talked about … well, that's just because the Master hasn't started with the beating …" Raphael glanced at her, happy to discover he obtained the desired effect.

"He … is going to hit me?" April face was panicked; Raphael smiled.

"How do you think he will teach you to fight? If the Master doesn't hits you hard enough, then he is not truly teaching you a thing … and if you don't accept it, then you are not truly ready to learn.

"T-that was what he did with you?"

"What do you think? Ninjitsu is nothing else that a technique to fight and win … if you dominate it, you are strong; and you only dominate it if you defeat you opponents … and the only way to do it is fighting." With that, he gave a mid turn on the air and kicked the punching bag so hard that almost took it out of the ring where it was hanging. April swallowed.

"But what about honor and balance and …" Raphael started to laugh.

"All that stuff sounds pretty, but at the end, all that counts is … the strength!" Raphael smile vanished. He waited a few seconds, motionless, and then looked around. April lifted an eyebrow. Raphael shook his head and turned towards her. "You will understand that honor not always indicates what is more convenient … and also that there are times where you can't let that famous honor stop you from doing what should be done and …" he stopped talking again, and to look around suspiciously.

"That's weird …" he said, mostly to himself. "Something is not quite right …"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Well …" Raphael scratched his head, "I already said a couple ill-fated things against every Ninjitsu's principles, which would offend the hearing of the good and obedient student, but … where is him? At this point Leo should be jumping out of nowhere to give me one of his boring lectures, I should be telling him to loosen up and stop being a nuisance, and at this we would resume the eternal discussion … and you would finally leave to find someone else to practice!" saying that, he turned and continued hitting the punching bag. April frowned, turning her back to him and moved to the door. Once there she faced him again, opening the mouth to say something, but noting came out.

_What a moment to doubt_, she said to herself. With a snarl, she turned again and left.

* * *

With absolute concentration, Donatello moved the content from one test tube to another, transferring the clear liquid it contained.

"Yees … finally … the perfect combination …" he told to himself. Suddenly, he burst on a strident laugh that almost made him drop the tubes. When his laugh receded, he looked around on all directions; after confirming no one had seen him he sighed relieved, left the empty tube on its support and rubbed his eyes.

"I think I have been working too much …"

"Donny!" The screaming at his back made him jump; he turned around just to find with the smiling face of April.

"Oh, hi April, how are you?" She didn't answer, but her smile became bigger. Don frowned.

"What …?" April smiled even more, opening her eyes really wide. "Oh. I got it. But right now I can't, I'm really busy, you know; a lot of things to do and …" while talking he backed away to the other side of his subway cart-laboratory, where his voice could barely be heard.

"But I need to practice with someone, and Raphael didn't want to and …"

"Raphael? You asked Raphael to practice with you? Well, fortunately, it seems he said no …"

"_Fortunately_? Why?"

"Well, he tends to … let's say … get thrilled with practice … I wouldn't like to see you with something broken …" and saying that, he buried his face on his microscope visor, without letting go the test tube he had on the hand.

"Oh. In fact, I wanted to practice with Leo, but …"

"Oh, yes … that's a wonderful idea, a much better idea …" while he talked, he made her a gesture with his free hand towards the door. "He will not teach you a thing, but you might receive a long list of all the things you are doing wrong; that can be helpful too …" April scowled.

"But, he is meditating, and I didn't want to interrupt him …"

"Oh … then ask Mikey, he is not doing a thing … he is never doing a thing, in fact …" Don raised his head from the microscope. "Besides, he has been a long time alone and it is not good to let him on his own for a long time, because he gets bored and comes up with stuff to get de-bored, and then something ends getting broken …"

"Okay, okay, I get it. And … em … what are you working at?"

"Well … it's something really complicated and … Look! That's Mikey! … Go fetch him, go!" April released something akin a growl and left the laboratory. Once alone, Don sighed.

"Again, peace …" He looked at the test tube still on his hand and drank its contents in one gulp. "Aaaaah, the perfect lemonade …"

TBC

* * *

**Translator Notes: **This was translated with permission from the authoress, Medeah, code 347592; she is proficient in English but has not much time to translate her own works, so I was allowed to give a try on this. The original story, in Spanish, is stored under the code 2158172. Go look at Medeah's bio! She has a couple fics in English, and some of you might like to practice your Spanish reading her interesting stories. THIS IS CHAPTER ONE OF FIFTEEN.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Avatar**_

**By Medeah **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Turtles, and have no intention to make money from this.

**Author Note:** This fic is based on the 2003 TV series.

**II.- Nightmares**

When he woke up, the room was completely dark. The lights were still turned off.

After rubbing his eyes, yawning and stretching, he stood up. Probably it was really late; he might have slept for hours. It was completely silent out there.

Even as he got out of the library door, his eyes were still half closed.

"Hey, guys?" he looked around. The living room was empty, there was nothing but darkness.

He called everyone, went into every room. There was no one, nowhere. Nothing.

_Where the hell is everyone?_ he wondered, still sleepy. Maybe something happened, an emergency, an unexpected attack. Something.

"No," he said out loud. "If that were to happen, they would wake me up, wouldn't they? Unless they couldn't … no, I don't think so. Maybe …"

He moved into the living room; the television was turned off, the couch cold. No traces of garbage food or plastic wraps that said his brothers had been there. He was getting more and more nervous.

"If this is a joke, it is not funny!" he yelled, but nobody answered.

He tried to turn the lights on but the switch didn't work. Then it came, an unpleasant sensation on the pitch of the stomach that indicated something really wrong was happening.

Wandering from room to room one more time, he found nothing new. Without notice from his part, he went back to the library's door and stopped there lost on his thoughts, looking at the floor.

_Should he go on their search? Where? _There was not a clue that pointed where his brothers could be. He looked up sighing, and his heart came to a halt.

Just a few meters in front of him was a small girl, standing up motionless.

Her hair was long, really long and black. She had not shoes. He could barely see her face, but her skin was so pale it seemed to glow in the darkness.

_Almost specter-like_, he thought, to immediately toss that idea from his mind.

She was wearing a light colored dress, but it was very dirty and torn apart. Leo realized she probably tumbled into an open manhole and walked till finding this place; she could be hurt.

The girl should have noticed him by now; however, no sound came from her, not a scream of surprise or fear or anything at all … she didn't even move from her spot. Leonardo was the one that seemed more shocked by their encounter.

The girl was looking at the floor, her naked feet against each other, and she nervously wringed her hands. She seemed so defenseless … _might be too scared to react_, he told to himself.

Leo observed her a few more seconds, silently …

There was definitely something peculiar with her. Something worrisome.

But she was just a girl … a little girl, lost in a foreign place, away from her parents, facing a strange green creature.

Yes, that definitely was explained it all. He was not as nervous anymore. But there still was a problem: where did she come from, and how could he return her to the place where she belonged?

Leo had to force himself to open the mouth.

"H-how did you arrive here? Where are you from, little one?"

There was no answer.

Her gaze was still nailed to the floor. Leonardo reasoned that, if he was startled by her presence, she had the right to be petrified at the sight of a giant turtle. He tried to get close, but something prevented him from moving; it was as if his feet were nailed to the floor, too.

Something in the sparse part of her face that could be seen made him abruptly discontinue his approaching attempts: the old and well known feeling of danger went from cero to one hundred in just a few seconds, forcing him to set himself on alert, even when he couldn't understand the reason of it.

Each passing second in front of the little girl made his worry increase …

_Attack her! Attack her now that you have a chance!_, a little voice screamed on the back of his head.

He shook his head. She was just a little girl! He could not attack her.

"Little one, are you okay?" There was no answer. The child was just there, immobile. She wasn't even looking at him; and, somehow, she didn't want him to look at her either.

He got the nagging feeling that one more second in front of her would drive him to flee, and pride could go to the hell.

Then he saw something.

_Something_ crossed hurriedly behind him. Leo could felt its presence prior to seeing it. He smiled.

Whatever it was, it had no idea about stealth; while trying to remain hidden, its own maneuvers betrayed it.

So that meant someone else was on the lair. _Too many strangers on this place tonight_, Leo though.

All his body was on guard; he avoided sudden motions, only his eyes moving while he searched, side-glancing.

_At his left; there it was._

It moved again, like a shadow. Leo remained at his place, his hand slowly moving towards the sheaths on his back.

Yes, just as he though, there was a man: a tall guy, dressed in black. Leo could barely see him with the dimming light, but it was enough to confirm he was there and moving … to and fro?

Leo frowned at the man odd actions. At first he believed the man was trying to get close to him, but that wasn't correct. The fellow was going from wall to wall on his side of the room, dragging his feet, very slowly. Prowling.

His arms, hanging by the sides, were large enough to surpass the knees … they almost touched his ankles! His head was tilted to the side, keeping the face hidden.

But if Leo was aware of the stranger's movements, the stranger was aware of Leo's.

_What is this? What the hell is this?_ The voice on his head was talking and talking; he tried to ignore it and remain focused on what was to come next.

The guy stopped. As if reading his mind, he ceased every movement, just stood motionless right in front of him, without looking up.

Leo didn't made a move either; he simply glanced at the other, his arm still but heading for the sword, ready to tore it out of its sheath at the first sign of movement from the stranger.

The silence and the stillness were unbearable. His muscles were tense and his body ready to jump, but the voices in his head, the stampede of sickening ideas made it difficult to focus. _Where are the others? Where are the others?_ His own breathing buzzed on his ears.

Then, the stranger started to move.

With a slight gesture and very slowly, the guy in black turned the head, without moving the rest of the body. His face was a black blur on the room darkness, a shadow that looked directly at him.

Leo felt his body chilling. The way how the stranger moved his body, sinuous, slowly; it was impossible to predict what he would do next.

He decided to attack the man, and turned to face him.

It was then when he understood that the man was not looking at him. He was looking at the girl.

Leonardo had almost forgotten about her; the disturbing girl that remained standing behind him; the one that materialized out of nowhere. The one that had her eyes fixed on his back.

He could feel her gaze.

Leo knew that he will do it, but still he didn't want to; he didn't wanted to look at her, but he couldn't avoid doing so. His body was already turning.

In one single movement, he took the sword out of its sheath and turned to face the girl. He was aware of his own breathing, the beats of his heart, a buzz on his ears, the cold sweat. He was scared and he still didn't know why.

Inevitably, his eyes found those of the girl.

The sword fell from his hands; he felt his knees wobbling while backing down …

_There was nothing._

On the girl's eyes, there was nothing … just two empty sockets, like two deep wells, looking at him.

Then her mouth was open, with a smile. There was nothing in it, either; as if the nothingness had put on a mask. He looked inside, and it was falling into an abyss, falling in the deepest well without air and without light. Suffocate.

The child started moving backwards, getting into a tunnel he couldn't remember existing. She moved away until the shadows engulfed her.

Leo just watched on her direction, mesmerized.

He couldn't take his eyes from it even if there was nobody there anymore. For a moment, he forgot everything else. Those empty sockets; that profound and endless blackness …

But he wasn't alone yet; the man was still there. He could hear him breathing.

Leo turned to look at him; he wasn't as far away as earlier.

Now he was right by his side.

Somehow, he moved without Leo noticing, and now he was so close; within reach. He was smiling.

That was all that could be seen on his face, a heinous and static smile. _There was nothing else_.

Leo flinched.

"You are dead," he said, and its lips didn't moved, its smile didn't faltered. "You all are dead; dead. Dead."

Leo ran away.

He would have screamed, but nothing came from his throat; he could barely breathe. He ran, purposeless, waiting for his heart to shoot out of his mouth any moment now. Next thing he knew, he was into Donatello's lab.

Leaning onto the workbench, he tried to control his ragged breathing.

Then he remembered dropping one of his weapons.

"What's going on? What the hell is going on here!" he asked himself out loud, with a shaky voice.

A shell-phone ringed. It was really close.

He found it under the table. He answered, to deal with a voice that almost was a hysteric howl.

"Leo! Is that you? Help us, please! T-this is horrible! Oh, God … don't …" it was as if the voice was doused on nervous stutter.

"Donatello? Where are you?"

"He is going to kill us! We are not alone … nooo! Oh, my God! No … Mikey, don't!"

The next was a watery sound, some kind of splashing and a drowning scream.

"Don! Donatello!"

He turned on his spot; there was only darkness in front of him. Running without really knowing where he was going to, he returned to the place where he first found the little girl. He stopped, searching on the floor, but his katana was not there anymore.

He didn't stay to ask for answers, his only thought was to found them.

Drawing out his other katana from its sheath, he got into the dark tunnel. _Where did this tunnel came from?_ It really didn't matter; somehow he knew that was the correct path.

He didn't have to walk too much. There was a light at the end, a turn on the tunnel that was illuminated.

Get close slowly; make sure you are doing not a noise.

The light came from another tunnel that joined the one he was following. He stopped at the entrance of the light up tunnel, listening. _Nothing_.

Then he got inside.

It only took a couple seconds to take on the sight. He collapsed when his knees couldn't support his weight anymore, his face altering to a grimace both of frighten and horror. He would have done anything to be able to tear his eyes away from what he was looking at.

"It's a shame you couldn't make it," a childish voice said behind him. "We were waiting for you. _They_ were waiting for you … but it took you too long."

Thick branches had arisen from the tunnel's ground, like a tree growing from the center of the earth thru the sewers, trying to get to the surface.

Its trunk was completely covered with terrible thorns, conical, pointed … and his brothers were hanging there, pierced. The blood ran down the trunk and all over the place: the walls, the ceiling; there was blood everywhere.

"R-Raphael …" but he couldn't answer; his heck had been stabbed, his blank eyes looking at the nothingness.

"Oh, my God …" Next to him was Donatello. His body was torn apart, suspended there, like a trophy.

The blood. There was blood everywhere, even on his hands, on his legs.

An agonizing scream came from his throat.

When he was able to take his eyes away and stand up again, his voice was still bouncing on the walls.

With tighten teeth, he slowly turned, the katana on his hand.

The girl was there, with her empty eyes. Michelangelo's head was on her hands, his features frozen on a dread grimace.

"Where do you want me to put this?" the childish voice asked.

When he opened the eyes, the scream was reverberating on his ears; he could barely breathe. Leo looked around.

He was on the library.

"Nightmare," he said, swallowing air. "It was a nightmare, that's all." Touching his face, he found it wet. There were tears on his eyes. "But it was so real …"

The anguish took a hold on him. With a jump, he got up and ran to the living room. A relieved sigh escaped his lips: the TV was turned on, and Michelangelo's nape could be seen over the couch's back.

He rubbed his forehead. For a moment he thought …

He walked to the couch.

"Eh, Mikey; what are you watching?" Mikey didn't answer.

"Are you sleeping in front of the television again?" Leo went around the coach, stepping in front of it.

Michelangelo's head rested on a mountain made of cushions, over the coach. That was the only part of him. Leonardo walked backwards, stifling a cry, tripping with the coffee table. He fall down, landing on his back, and his eyes were directly looking at Donatello, hanging from the ceiling with a rope around his neck.

On the floor, Leonardo was trying to get away from the body that oscillated; left to right, left to right …

"Look what I found!"

He scrambled to his feet at the sound.

Raphael was on the couch, sitting beside Mikey's head and looking at nothing. Master Splinter was behind Raphael, holding a katana. Out of instinct, Leo searched for his swords, but none of it was on its sheath.

The Master swished the sword over his head. In one swift motion, he took hold of Raphael's head, pulling it back and exposing the neck. The katana's edge cut it cleanly; the blood flowed.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Leo yelled, not believing what he saw. The Master was smiling wickedly, eyes unfocused and his face that of a madman. At Leonardo's question, he let go a hysteric laugh, dropped the bloodied sword and ran away until he was out of sight.

Leonardo's eyes were fixed on Raphael's body. With an effort he moved away, until a wall stopped him. He dropped to floor level, covering his face with the hands.

"No, this can't be happening. This can't be real." He forcefully closed the eyes. "This has to be a dream; I'm still dreaming, I'm still dreaming, I'm still dreaming …"

He opened the eyes again.

There was nothing on the couch; Donatello was not hanging on a corner, Raphael had not been decapitated.

Everything was back to normal. There was not a blood covered katana.

Leonardo got up slowly.

"What … what's going on?" he asked to the air. "What's going on!" he screamed to the top of his lungs

There was no answer.

He tried to walk, but his legs were shaking too much. He looked up; an incessant sound was growing and growing, getting closer by the second. Pounding on wood.

He looked for the source. In the middle of the room was a black door, a black wooden door he haven't seen before, and yet seemed vaguely familiar.

Someone on the door's other side was banging it with all his force, making it almost jump out of its hinges.

"He wants to get inside," a soft voice said, close to him. He didn't recognize it, and was afraid to see.

Besides, he didn't know if he was truly hearing it or it was only on his head. The weight of a hand on his shoulder gave him the answer.

Even then he didn't turn to look, his eyes nailed on the door that soon would explode on a thousand pieces.

"What's going on?" he asked, and somebody laughed at it.

"He wants to get in. And it's your fault, you let him."

"I did?" There was no answer, but the hand remained on his shoulder. "Where are my brothers?"

"Dead …" Leo took the hand and pulled it hard enough to snap. He turned to face the stranger, just to find he was in front of his own image.

He was facing at himself.

"… or soon they will be," his replica continued. Leo felt he was two steps from losing sanity. His image was smiling.

"Look what I found," there was a katana on each of his hands. "Easy, you are safe. From me, that's it." The image extended the weapons, and Leo took them without thinking.

"But they will take you nowhere. You will never leave this place," he added. Leo was about to hit his copy, but it was not there anymore.

"But we," the copy's voice said, "we will have fun."

One more time, he was alone on the middle of the living room. The black door had disappeared too, but the beating could still be heard somewhere around.

When he opened the eyes, the thumps were still reverberating on his ears, and he found himself facing the library's floor.

"Nightmare," a voice on his head said. "It was a nightmare, that's all."

Slowly, he looked around. By his side was a ringing cell phone. He picked it up.

"Leo! Is that you? Help us …t-this is horrible! Oh, God … we won't get out of this alive …" slowly, the cell slipped from his hand and fall to the floor.

TBC

**Translator Notes: **This was translated with permission from the authoress, **Medeah**, code 347592; she is proficient in English but has not much time to translate her own works, so I was allowed to give a try on this. The original story, in Spanish, is stored under the code 2158172. Go look at **Medeah**'s bio! She has a couple fics in English, and some of you might like to practice your Spanish reading her interesting stories. THIS IS CHAPTER TWO OF FIFTEEN.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Avatar _**

**By Medeah **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Turtles, and have no intention to make money from this.

**Author's Note** This fic is based on the 2003 TV series.

**III.- Strange attitudes **

Raphael decided he had had enough of hitting the punching bag, so he finally gave it some peace. He picked up the towel from the floor, put it around his neck and left to the living room. It was empty, but he could hear laughs and yells coming from somewhere. He found Don on his laboratory.

"Where are the others? What's that noise?"

Don, completely focused on the book he was reading, didn't bother looking up. "I don't know, and those are April and Mikey. Training. Or something like that."

Again they could hear laughs, yells, and hurrying steps all over the place. Raphael turned around to find Mikey and April, still laughing.

"Did you notice?" she suddenly said, turning serious. "We had no practice at all!"

"Yes, but you had the chance to enjoy my charming personality. Besides, Twister develops your reflexes," Mikey pointed out with a huge smile.

"Yeah, sure."

"Where's Leo?" Raphael asked.

"He was on the library, I saw him there. But that was hours ago," April answered.

Hearing that, Donatello finally looked up from the book. "Ah yes, meditating. Was he alone?"

"Eh … I think so."

The three turtles looked at each other.

Raphael smiled. "I think _someone_ is in deep trouble."

April stared at them, unable to grasp the meaning of his words.

Don stood up, and as they went to the library, he explained to April. "We are not supposed to meditate alone."

"Really? I see. But, is it truly dangerous?"

"No. Well, I really don't know. It's not something out of the world, only a technique to direct your energy. Anyway, Splinter was very clear when he forbade us from doing it on our own."

They found Leo sleeping on the floor, the back leaning on the bookcases.

"Aaaa-aw, look at that! He's sleeping! Isn't that cute?" Raphael moved closer. "Like a biggie greenie baby."

He was about to wake up his brother with a shout from the top of his lungs, when Mikey stopped him. The younger brother was sporting a serious expression.

"Don't, Oh brother of mine. This must be done appropriately." Then he questioned April. "By chance, don't you have on your bag some lipstick, eye shadow, mascara? Any makeup will do."

"Okay, this is odd." They looked at Donatello, trying to understand what he was talking about. He turned their attention to Leonardo's arm, and then moved it softly. Nothing happened. Then he shook Leo with a little more force, still not managing to wake him up. Next, he grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking him violently but it triggered no reaction. "He is sleeping, there's no doubt about it. But I just can't wake him up."

Michelangelo raised an eye bridge.

"Let me try." He got closer to Leo and snapped his fingers in front of the other turtle's face. Leo frowned but didn't wake up.

"This is why a student should not meditate without his master's supervision."

Engrossed with their brother, they hadn't noticed the old rat coming into the room. Startled by his voice, they moved back to give him some space.

Splinter watched his sleeping student with a severe expression before bending over him. "It seems he is trapped in some deep dream. That's what happens when an apprentice meditates without dominating the techniques; the trance can't be undone."

Splinter moved his hand on the older turtle's direction, but pulled back immediately: Leonardo had just opened his eyes and was holding his Master's hand with his own, preventing him from getting close.

"Don't you dare touching me …" he growled between his teeth in a barely audible tone. His expression was an intimidating one.

The rat was shocked. "Leonardo?" he asked.

Leonardo held up his gaze while April and his brothers expectantly watched the bizarre scene, until Leo's face relaxed and he let go his Master's hand. The Sensei retreated, still taken aback. The turtle in blue scrutinized his surroundings and then looked at the others, as if he were meeting them for the first time. Finally he shook his head.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Master. I think I still was sleeping -"

"It is all right," Splinter interrupted him dryly, standing up. Slowly, Leo did the same. Once on his feet, he studied the people on the room with even more interest, before examining his own hands with what could only be called surprise.

"Green," he whispered, and Raphael glanced at him.

"Yeah. Besides, mutant and ninja. Any other discovery you would like to share?"

Leonardo swiftly turned to face him, and his expression was the same he had when waking up: he appeared furious. Raphael couldn't stop himself from backing off, surprised by the sudden reaction, but Leo's face turned back to normalcy almost immediately.

"I need some air. If I'm excused …" he requested to his Master, who granted him permission. After making a reverence, Leo left the room.

They all remained silent for a while.

"He was acting somehow … strange," Donatello commented, thoughtful.

"Oh, that's a really scientific remark." Raphael pushed him with the shoulder. "Master Splinter …" but before he could continue, the old rat shrugged.

"I already told you, meditation can be extremely disturbing if you don't dominate it; that is why the prohibition exists. Maybe it is true that he only needs some fresh air. Let's give him some space." And saying so, he retired to his room.

"Oh yes. But he has make me clean the entire place with a toothbrush for less than this," Raphael stated once Master Splinter disappeared, but nobody paid attention to his words.

Hours later April announced she was leaving, and the three turtles returned to their every day routine. Leonardo still was out. Mikey ran to the couch and bounced on it, turning the TV on. He zapped around and, when he finally made his choice, a last hour news bulletin interrupted the transmission. Raph and Don got close to the couch.

_"An unexplainable criminal event is perplexing the police this night. Our reporter is at the crime's scene, sending us more information." _

_"That's right, studio. We are in front of the city's __Ancient_ _Story_ _Museum__, where an extremely valuable piece of art was robbed. Its antiquity, according to scientists, goes down to the beginning of the human civilizations' history. We are talking about a unique object, due to the mystery its age involves, and that hasn't been explained to the date. The police declared this theft could only be done by experts, as alarms were deceived and vigilance cameras could not detect them. Furthermore, they left behind the guards' dead bodies, who might have been murdered …" _

The screen showed the image of the robbed object, some kind of sphere not bigger than a man's palm, and of a golden crystalline color.

Mikey turned the TV off.

"Who would want to go thru so many problems for a stupid marble?" he asked, yawning.

"It is not just a stupid marble, Mikey," Don retorted. Raphael rolled his eyes and decided to get as far as he could from the incoming geeky explanation. "It is Leng's golden sphere, the oldest relic ever found; older than the pyramids, older than the Greek amphitheatres, older than …"

"Alright, alright, I get the idea. So, you are saying it is worth a lot of money."

"Yes, but its scientific value is even higher. In fact, it has yet to be discovered what it is and what it does; but it has been traveling around the world for centuries without any visible damage. This sphere was named after the place where it was found, and …"

"Well, finally!"

Raphael's scolding interrupted Donatello's detailed explanation; both he and Mikey turned trying to figure out his brother's reasons.

Leonardo had just arrived after several hours of absence, and he was in the middle of the training room. None of them have noticed his return. His laborious breathing suggested he had run all the way back home, but it was his stance what bothered them: angry and gloomy, he kept his head down, almost as if hiding his face. He was in front of Raphael, visibly annoyed.

Leo usually kept his cool; it was an odd day the one when he got mad or angry with any of them. But right now he seemed about to lose control because of Raphael's remarks. It was even more surprising when his face relaxed and changed into a half smile.

"And since when you worry about me, brother?"

Raphael frowned. He was getting angry, yet he understood it would he wise to take it easy. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder, as a friendly gesture.

"Cranky are we, huh bro?" With a despise grimace, Leo looked from the hand on his shoulder to Raphael's face.

"You should be able to say, being Mr. Bad Mood and all," he answered with displease, shoving his brother's hand apart.

Raphael raised an eye bridge. _Interesting_, he thought. _Where does this aggressiveness comes from? Let's make a test._

"What, am I bothering you?" he questioned, smirking.

"Since when do you care about bothering other people?"

"I _do not_ get worried, so I recommend you don't forget it."

Leo's face was hard as stone.

"Get out of my way. You don't want to fight me, trust what I say."

Raphael didn't answer. He knew his brother was serious about it, that he'll fight if provoked. Leonardo was ready to jump at the smallest encouragement. It was Leo who definitely wanted to fight.

_Weird. Really weird. _

"I don't know what you are up to," he finally acknowledged, "but you are acting a tad … differently, wouldn't you say?" Raphael then looked him at the eye. "Where have you been all this time?"

For some tense seconds they looked at each other menacingly, and neither Michelangelo nor Donatello dared to say a word. Finally, Leo looked away and passed past Raphael.

"What I do is not your business," he simply stated in a low and deep voice. "Don't mess with me and you will save yourself from a lot of trouble, turtle."

Raphael wrinkled his forehead, seriously considering kicking some sense back into his brother. He would have loved to, but he let it pass. It seemed that, for once, Leo was acting like him and he was acting like Leo. The older brother was the one who always tried to avoid physical violence when an argument took place, but now it was the hothead who avoided it.

None of them were acting as their usual, then.

Leo got into his room and locked the door. The tree remaining turtles exchanged worried glances.

"Maybe you should follow his advice and let him alone for a while," Donatello carefully suggested.

Raphael turned to face him with a growl. "I don't like this."

"That's not unusual, you don't like anything," Michelangelo intervened, "and maybe he is just stressed. Let him be, _turtle_."

Raphael looked at his brothers and directed a menacing grunt to Mikey before leaving. Mikey and Donnie shrugged before returning to their previous activities.

After many hours of intensive television, Michelangelo found out he was sleepy. He looked at the clock: almost midnight. Deciding it was time to get to bed, he turned off the monitors and moved to the bathroom. Once there he smiled to the mirror and winked to his reflection. Taking his toothbrush, he suddenly found himself freezing.

The sewers were not precisely a warm place, not with that humid and cold air; but the current temperature was so low he could actually see his own breath. And he was shivering.

"B-but it is summer …" he stuttered. Letting the toothbrush aside, he took a towel to cover himself in order to get some warmth. Turning around, he let the towel drop: right in front of him was a human figure, a man with sad eyes that directly looked at him before vanishing.

Michelangelo remained frozen on the spot for a couple seconds before rushing out of the bathroom, screaming.

"Ghost! Ghost!"

Entering Don's bedroom, he turned on the lamp. Donatello looked at him, drowsily.

"What is it?" he questioned, trying to adapt his eyes to the sudden brightness.

Mikey gesticulated and opened the mouth, but no sound came out of it. Finally, he jumped onto the bed, took the blanket and hid under it.

"I see dead people!"

Donatello looked at him again before lying down.

"Okay, that was a good one. Now give me my blanket back, I'm freezing."

"No, Donnie! It is true! There's a ghost in the bathroom!"

"Sure, and the last week there was a giant crocodile on the sewers; and before that …"

"Really, you have to believe me! And there _is_ a giant crocodile on the sewers!"

"Sure, whatever."

"Don!"

Donatello opened an eye and took his brother by the nape, getting him close to his face.

"There are _no ghosts_ in the bathroom, you had a _nightmare_. And there is _no giant crocodile_ on the sewers, only a _very tired turtle_ that gets _really, really mad_ when his sleeping time is _disturbed_."

"But … the ghost …"

"Good night, Mikey," and saying so he turned the light off.

Finding himself in the darkness, Michelangelo looked on every direction while biting his nails.

"All right, there are not ghosts." He left the room, nervously. "There are not ghosts, there are not ghosts …"

Donatello looked for his blanket and covered himself with it. The room was suddenly oh so cold! He didn't even paid attention to the figure that looked at him from one of his room's corners.

Raphael woke up with a start. He was sure there were some voices … yes, he still could hear them … murmuring in his room. He remained still, eyes half closed, and waited until he got used to the darkness. Now he could clearly discern there was someone in his room, at least two people. He knew they were really close to him, talking.

In a sudden motion, he turned on the light and jumped to his feet. Except for him, the room was empty. He waited a few seconds before relaxing and sitting on the bed. Resting his head against the wall, he turned it to the side to find the face of a pale, semitransparent woman, whose lower half went across the bed.

He retreated with a shout.

The woman followed him, grabbing his wrist. Raphael felt her cold contact. The apparition's lips were moving, but no word was uttered; then she slowly vanished. Raphael found he was sitting on the floor, with a perplex expression and the arm stretched in front of him, as the ghost left him.

"No … tell me that was not a ghost. Anything but a ghost. Aliens, I can handle. But ghosts?" he mumbled.

A yell made him rush out of his room. He found Donatello outside, startled and with a horror expression on his face.

"Eh … uh … ah …" Don was unable to form a coherent word.

"A pathetic, semitransparent figure that then vanishes?" Raphael anxiously provided.

Don nodded affirmatively. They were at that when Mikey came out of his room, covered with his blanket and a bit pale.

"But there aren't ghosts, are there? Now I hope you believe me on the crocodile bit."

Raphael scrutinized his younger brother before turning to Don.

"Mikey believes there is a giant crocodile on the sewers," Donatello explained.

Raphael warily looked at his brother. "There _is_ a giant crocodile on the sewers. I have seen it."

Don remained shocked for a second before shaking his head.

"No, this can't be true. Those … things … there's no way they are ghosts. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for this all."

"Well, yeah, the sewerage is bewitched!"

"Right, just what we needed."

"No, it is not bewitched." They jumped. Again, they have failed to notice Splinter's presence until he was in fact in front of them. Michelangelo turned even paler. "But strange events are taking place," the rat continued, "I can feel it."

"And _I_ could _see_ it. What's go-" But Raphael was unable to continue, as all the lights suddenly turned off.

"The light went off!"

"No, really?"

"Nooo! Don't you get it? This is the part when the vengeful ghost starts taking victims! Once the light is back, one of us will have disappeared! And that surely will be me!"

"Mikey, relax. The comic relief always happens to survive. Now, come with me; we have to check the fusible box."

"No, that's the worst idea ever! Have you learn nothing from the movies? When a group disbands, the members disappear one by one. We must stay together, and you all have to protect me!"

Dragging Michelangelo by the bandana, Donatello left.

"I must admit Michelangelo's words are wise ones," Master Splinter told to Raphael when they were alone.

"Do you really believe there's a vengeful ghost?"

"Not that part! We should remain together. Where's your brother Leonardo?"

"That's a good question," Raphael admitted and decided to go get him.

"Mikey, get off! I can't walk like this."

Michelangelo was practically on his brother's shell, still covered from head to toe with his blanket, and nervously looking on every direction.

"Why the fusible box always has to be at some remote place? Why there's always someone that _has_ to insist on fixing it? Why can't we wait on the living room until the morning, and come back to fix the fusible then? Why –?"

"Could you please shut up? There's the fusible box, do you see it?" Don shoved his brother aside and, taking a lantern from his duffel bag, he directed the light beam to the box. "Hmm, I can see what the problem is. It will be very easy to fix."

He held the lantern with the teeth while working. After a few minutes he closed the box.

"All right, now we just have to turn on the switch and … Mikey, get off my shell, I've already told you!" Don could still feel somebody behind him, but there was no response. Then he noticed the sudden drop in the temperature. "Mikey?"

Again, there was no answer. The pressure on his shell was still there, but he finally noticed it was as if something humid and cold was attached on him. He felt a chill on his nape.

"Okay, I'm sure this is gonna be a very bad idea."

Slowly and with the lantern still on the hand, he turned around. The light showed a dark figure, with the face covered by what looked like locks of dirty hair, and only a few feet away from him.

Involuntarily he dropped the lantern, running to turn on the fusible switch. The light returned immediately. Looking around, he found himself alone and released a relieved sigh, until he noticed something missing.

"Mike? Mikey, where are you?" There was no answer. "Damn! Could it be that he was right? He has disappeared."

Michelangelo had the slight feeling that he was not at the lair anymore.

"It definitely was a bad idea to make that last turn," he mumbled between his teeth, tightly holding the blanket in place. "Great! I just somehow managed to be left alone, in a dark and humid tunnel. Don, are you there? Is anybody there? Preferably not a walking dead, most commonly known as a ghost? Hey, I remember this tunnel! Next turn should lead me back to -"

He suddenly stopped and grabbed his weapons, as he has heard steps coming on his direction from the darkness. On the tunnel's walls a shadow danced, that of the thing that will appear in front of him any second now.

"STOP, YOU DEMON!" a voice yelled.

Mikey's eyes went wide. It was not a ghost, but a young human female.

"What the sh-" he started, but the girl interrupted him.

"I said: STOP, YOU DEMON!"

"Stop, you demon?" Mikey repeated, before interrogating her. "Who are you?"

The girl looked scared but was not trying to escape. She just frowned while rummaging into the huge bag hanging on her back. Her eyes remained on Mikey, who looked back with curiosity.

"Now you will face your destruction, demon. Just … wait a second." Her arm was now almost completely into the bag, franticly turning around its contents.

"Yeah, whatever, but I think you might be slightly confu-"

"Here it is, demon; the instrument of your demise!" She took the arm out of the bag and there was a paper strip on her hand. Mikey half closed his eyes to have a better view of it.

"That's my demise's instrument?"

The girl paid no attention and attacked him, but Mikey didn't even try to defend himself. Next thing he noticed, the paper strip was glued on his forehead, hanging in front of his eyes. He really wanted to laugh at that, but somehow he couldn't move. There was a tingling feeling all over his body, which didn't answer to his commands.

"What's this," he mumbled, barely able to open his mouth.

The girl grinned, but her expression changed almost immediately.

"This is weird." She got closer, examining Mikey with curiosity. "You were supposed to explode. Maybe I did something wrong?"

"Explode! Now, wait a minute …" Michelangelo tried to move but that proved to be impossible.

"Well, that means I'll have to use the traditional method."

"What? What traditional method?"

The girl returned to her bag, taking out of it a short, thick dagger with foreign inscriptions on the blade.

"Wait, I'm not a demon! You are in a mistake! Demons live on the sewer next door, there are only turtles here!"

"You are lying, demon! You are only trying to avoid your destruction!"

"Yeees, that's truuuue!"

"Yet I don't think you should destroy him right now, child."

The girl turned to find who had talked. Mikey couldn't move, but he recognized Splinter's voice. The girl drawled back with a panicked face.

"A rat! A giant rat! And it talks!"

Splinter sighed. "And I should go thru this every single time …"

But then the girl's face relaxed.

"What am I saying?" she chastised while slapping her forehead. "A talking giant rat? You are Splinter!"

"Master Splinter to you," Mikey corrected. "And now that we are on friendly terms, do you think I could be de-paralyzed?"

Splinter smiled at him.

"Hmm …"

"Don't worry, Master! I immobilized this demon, and was about to get rid of him."

"Oh, that's tempting, child. But as I said before, it would not be necessary. He is not a demon, but one of my sons."

"Sons?" The girl's gaze went from the turtle to Splinter and then back to the turtle.

"Yeah, well, I got the looks from my mom."

"It's … I just … I believed he was a demon, what with that appearance …" the girl stuttered.

Splinter moved to Mikey's side and inspected the paper strip.

"Mm, many years have passed since the last time I saw one of this seals. I didn't know there were people on this city that was able to use them."

Splinter snapped his fingers in front of Mikey's face, and the paper strip immediately detached from the turtle's forehead. Splinter grabbed it on the air and barely had the time to notice the Japanese calligraphy before the paper disappeared in a ball of fire.

Mikey happily stretched arms and legs.

Splinter turned towards the girl. "I'm afraid, young lady, that you have me in disadvantage."

The girl looked at him, trying to understand his words. "Oh," she finally acknowledged. "We have never met, but you surely remember my mother. From what I've been able to gather, she visited you some years ago."

The girl's face was serious, and the rat looked at her in silence before talking again.

"Yes, I remember," he conceded with a somber expression. "It would be better if we get into our home. Your presence here coincides with some dark premonitions of mine."

The girl hesitated before agreeing to follow them.

Raphael moved with precaution. The lack of light was not a problem; neither was the possibility to stumble on some supernatural being wandering around. No, what made him nervous was the fact that he was looking for Leo. The older turtle had been acting weird since he woke up on the library. Never before he had been in bad mood, looking for fights, but earlier this night …

All right, he was at his brother's door, and there was complete darkness and absolute silence all around. Raphael shook his head. _This is stupid_, he thought.

"Hey, Leo!" he called. There was no answer. "Leo, are you in there?" He cautiously walked into the room; it was as dark as the rest of the lair. The bed was empty.

"Are you looking for something?"

He jumped at the voice. Leonardo was sitting at a corner. Raph hadn't noticed his brother, but the turtle in blue had obviously been observing him since he got into the room. Leo was sporting a smile that made Raph nervous. He tried to ignore the nagging feeling.

"There you are! Why didn't you answer to my calling?" Leonardo kept his mouth closed; he only looked directly at him. Raphael was intrigued. "What's wrong?"

Leo softly laughed, resting his arm on his knee.

"Nothing. Go get the others, I'll meet you latter."

His voice was deeper than usual, and only the white of his eyes could be clearly discerned in such darkness. For some unexplainable reason, Raphael felt the urgent need to get out of that room as soon as possible.

"You know you've been acting somewhat weirdly, don't you?" and without waiting for an answer, he turned around and left.

"Yes I do," Leo answered with a smug smile, but Raphael couldn't hear him.

Just as Raphael left his brother's bedroom, the light returned. Sighing in relief, he moved to the center of the living room right when the lair's door got open. There were his Sensei, Mikey and someone else.

"And who's that? Great, just what we need right now: visits," he mumbled to himself.

Donatello catch up with him. "Have you seen Mikey? I don't know what happened to him; one moment he was by my side and the next …" he trailed off when Raphael pointed at the three figures getting into the lair. "Oh, there he is."

Mikey moved in their direction while the unfamiliar girl and their Sensei remained a little apart, talking in low tones.

"Who's she?" Don whispered.

Mikey got closer to them while looking at the girl. With the light, now he could see her clearly: barely taller than them, she was thin and blonde, had short hair and was wearing glasses, jeans and a sweater with a rhomboid pattern. And ah, yes, she was carrying a huge bag pack.

"I have no idea; if you ask me, I'd say she escaped some loony bin. But it seems that Master Splinter knows her."

"Oh," his brothers exclaimed at the same time looking at their Sensei, who still was talking to the girl. They paid close attention to the conversation.

"… yes, I agree with you. Some subjects should better be discussed under the day light. Besides, this is a very late hour," Master Splinter was saying.

The girl nodded. Suddenly, they turned and discovered they were being observed by the turtles, who immediately looked on any other direction. Splinter motioned them to get closer. The girl's eyes were wide open.

"So, these are your … eh … sons, right?" And then, whispering to the rat, "Where did you found them? Were they invoked, created? Are they some kind of chimera?"

Master Splinter just smiled.

Raphael moved extremely close to her, almost touching her face with his own. She flinched, nervously smiling.

"Is there a problem?"

"Jejeje … hi? No, there's no problem at all."

"Good. Now, if you have the kindness to tell us who the hell you are," Raphael growled.

"This young lady will help us with our _apparitions'_ problem," Master Splinter interceded.

"That's right," she informed, getting away from Raphael. "First thing, we have to put some seals around. I don't know why, the spirits are extremely active this night."

She waved a package of paper strips in front of their eyes.

"Ah no, forget it. Don't even think I'm gonna touch those," Michelangelo exclaimed.

The girl glanced at him. "That won't be necessary," she simply stated. Getting her hand into her pocket, she took out a shinny chain with a crystal object hanging at one extreme. The girl held it in front of her face, attentively watching at it. The object oscillated side to side for a couple seconds before, apparently by its own accord, moving to the front.

"This way," the girl motioned: the diamond shaped object pointed directly to the center of the room. "The energy center is right in the middle of the room. Great Feng Shui!"

"Thanks," Master Splinter replied with a smile.

The turtles blankly looked at him.

Putting the crystal object back in her pocket, the girl stepped in the center of the room. With both hands she took the paper strips and put them by her temples, closing her eyes and reciting some strange words.

"Just what we needed …" Raphael mumbled one more time.

Suddenly the girl grew quiet, and she let go the paper strips. Instead of falling to the floor, those floated in the air for a second before shooting on several directions: north, south, east and west, they firmly got stuck to the walls.

"That's it!" she happily exclaimed, as if asking for approbation.

"Uh … nice?" Don said, on the belief that something should be acknowledged.

"Sure, you'll have my recognition, after you explain what the hell was that for," were Raphael's angry words.

She adjusted her glasses. "_This_ is a spiritual barrier; it will prevent more spirits from getting into your home. You might have seen some already, I found many while coming here."

"It will be explained tomorrow," Splinter informed before any of his sons had time to make another question. "Now you'll go to rest without worry, we should not expect more surprises this night."

"We'll do it, once she answers my first question," Raphael addressed to the stranger.

She seemed surprised. "Oh yes, sure." And, breathing deep, she informed with shinny eyes, "My name is Muffy, Muffy Simmons."

TBC …

**Translator Notes: **This was translated with permission from the authoress, **Medeah. **The original story, in Spanish, has the number 2158172. THIS IS CHAPTER THREE OF FIFTEEN. **This story has been nominated for the Strangest Scene category on the Fanfiction 2005 Competition. Congrats to Medeah!**


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